DUDLEY LEADS THE GAUCHOS
"He is better mounted than I am, and there is bound to be a fight,"
thought Dudley as the minutes flew by and Giono gained rapidly upon
him, leaving his two comrades some yards in rear. "I had better keep
a careful watch on his revolver, and if he lifts it I will fire."
They were close to the edge of the rancho now, and half a mile ahead
the rails of the corral could be seen. But though our hero strained
his eyes in that direction there was not a single horseman. Nothing
but the corral broke the flat expanse of waving pampas. He was
alone, and must look to himself for safety.
Crack! As he stared ahead there came the sharp report of a pistol,
and on glancing behind he saw a wreath of smoke blowing away from the
muzzle of Giono's revolver.
"Missed," thought Dudley, with no little satisfaction. "The range is
too long as yet, and even if he hits me the bullet will do no great
harm. But he is pulling up fast. I wonder whether, if I hit him,
the others will give up the chase?"
Crack! Once again the report came to his ear, and instinctively he
crouched lower as a bullet hissed over his head. He was within range
then, and must act if he was to escape at all. Keeping low on the
back of his horse, with his weight thrown as much forward as
possible, he glanced round again, his head twisted to the right.
Giono was standing in his stirrups, his eye blazing with wrath, and
fierce determination written on every line of his ugly face. He
lifted the weapon again, took very careful aim, and was on the point
of pressing the trigger when Dudley gripped the butt of his revolver
and sent a bullet flying behind. And here again his happy knack of
shooting, the quick eye and ready hand which he possessed, stood him
in good stead. Giono gave a shout, clapped the hand which held the
reins to his chest, and instantly crumpled up on the bow of his
saddle. He swayed from side to side, and made frantic efforts to
cling to his seat. His spurs almost met beneath his horse's belly,
while the rowels dug into the poor beast, making it gallop even
harder. Then this powerful gaucho, hardened to exposure and fatigue,
recovered his strength and threw off the sudden weakness caused by
his wound. There was a thin streak of blood at the corner of his
mouth as he sat up with a jerk, and the scowl on his face had
increased in intensity. Without lifting his weapon he pointed the
muzzle at the lad in front of him and pulled the trigger.
Dudley learned some ten minutes later what happened after that
momentous shot, for within two seconds he was unconscious. The
bullet had missed him entirely, but flying low had passed between the
heels of his horse, and had struck behind the knee of one of the fore
legs, bringing the gallant beast toppling on to its head.
"When the señor is ready it will be as well to move on," he suddenly
heard a voice say. "The señor is better. He has fallen heavily, and
the ground was hard. Pepito, bring your water sack, and we will
sprinkle his face and so refresh him."
The words sounded as if they had been spoken yards and yards away.
They came to Dudley's ears in a strangely blurred fashion, failing to
rouse him, and leaving him to puzzle over their meaning.
"The ground was hard, and he had fallen heavily. Who had fallen
heavily?" he wondered. "They are joking. Perhaps they want to
disturb me. But I won't move. I'm very comfortable, thank you!"
He mumbled the last words in a low voice, and in tones which showed
that he was feeling irritable. In fact, his mind was more or less of
a blank. He had no idea who was speaking, and he cared less. He
felt drowsy, and objected to being disturbed.
"Bueno, Pepito! The water comes in handy, and our young master will
thank us for it. Lift his head so. Now I will dash some of the
contents of this sack in his face."
On the pampas it was the custom to carry water in a canvas bag, just
as it is in Egypt, and in Africa, and in many another country.
Pepito, a young gaucho who had been sent for his store, stood by
grinning with anxiety, for he had taken a fancy to this young English
fellow, while Pietro knelt and lifted Dudley's head. Then the tall
gaucho with the melancholy air deliberately dashed some of the water
in the face of the half-unconscious youth.
"Here, I say!" gasped Dudley, frantically struggling to sit up, and
opening his eyes wide. "Look here! No more of that! If you try the
game again I'll----"
He stopped short, his mouth wide open, and his eyes fixed on Pietro's
honest face. Up to that very instant his wits had been sadly
wandering, and he had imagined himself at school again. This was, so
he thought, a game being played at his expense, and----
"Why, it's Pietro, and that's Pepito! What are you grinning for?"
The young gaucho turned his head away in confusion, while Pietro
lifted his patient higher.
"Yes, we are here, señor," he said. "Is the señor right in his mind
now? Is his head sore? For the fall was a heavy one, and, as I
said, the ground is hard."
"Was his head sore?" Dudley sat up suddenly and gazed about him in
bewilderment, for he had still no recollection of what had happened a
few minutes before. He ran his hands over his head, and then turned
to speak again to Pepito, only to feel acute pain in his neck, and
give a sudden cry.
"That is queer. My neck feels as if it had been almost broken, or as
if some fellow had collared me and given it a firm and friendly
screw. Hallo!"
This time his eyes fell on something which could not but remind him
of his exciting chase, for a dozen yards away his own horse stood
shaking after its frantic exertions, and blowing harder than Dudley
had ever seen one blow before. The gallant beast was white with
foam, and its flanks moved in and out spasmodically. Its head hung
low, and generally its appearance was one of absolute exhaustion.
"He helped to save the señor's life," said Pietro. "He galloped
well. But the señor was wise to shake off the saddle. Had he not
done so this Giono would have certainly overhauled him earlier, and
then----"
"And then? Yes?" asked Dudley.
"The señor would not be here. The señor would be dead. As it is,
Giono is dead. He has a dozen bullets in him in addition to the one
which you sent. Come, the señor is better."
Dudley was. In a flash he remembered his flight and all that had
happened up to the report which had come from Giono's revolver.
After that all was a blank.
"Tell me what happened," he asked, struggling to his feet and
standing there with Pietro and another gaucho supporting him. "No,
leave me alone please, for I can stand. I am just a little giddy,
that's all, and, phew! my neck!"
"It is a wonder it was not broken, señor," came the answer. "You
shot out from the back of your horse and flew some yards before you
landed. I made sure that you were killed, for you fell on your head
and rolled over. Another man's neck would have been broken."
"Then I am saved for some other fate," laughed Dudley, beginning to
feel better. "Many thanks, my friends, for helping me, and for the
water. Now, what happened exactly?"
He beckoned to Pepito, took a deep draught from the sack, and then
turned to Pietro again.
"Giono made a better shot the last time he ever pulled trigger than
he would have done had he dared to fire at the flying pith ball of
the bolas, señor. You had hit him hard in the chest, and he was
bleeding. But, as I said, he had luck. His ball hit your beast
behind the knee, and brought him down like a stone, just as you or I
would fall if someone struck us in a similar position. You fell, as
I have described, and in a moment Giono was pulling up beside you,
while his two comrades were galloping to join him. They were a fine
mark, and we dropped them at our first volley."
"You dropped them? How?"
Dudley was amazed, for he had seen none of his friends.
"We might have remained on our horses, señor. But then we knew that
you could reach the rancho before the enemy, and even if you could
not we could hardly help you, for you were within a mile before our
lookout gave the alarm. There is a small hollow on our left, and
there we placed our horses on their sides, and lay in wait for the
Indians, guessing that you would pass near at hand. It was as well
for the señor that we were there, for Giono would have committed
murder."
"Then I have to thank you for a good deal more than the water," said
Dudley gratefully. "I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
But were you not saying something about moving?"
"_Bueno_, señor! These demons are collecting away yonder, and our
men say that there are three or four hundred. It would be as well to
retire on the house shortly, for all are mounted, and could easily
surround us. When the señor is himself again we will ride on."
"I am ready now," came the answer. "First tell me how many gauchos
there are here."
"Forty, señor, and men have ridden off to tell the others to retire
on the house."
"One moment, Pietro! They have orders to go, and I see them
mounting; they have not left yet."
It was the tall gaucho who interposed, and at once Dudley took
advantage of his information.
"Send them here immediately," he commanded, and in a voice which the
gauchos were fully accustomed to, for quite unconsciously this young
Englishman had acquired an air of authority since Mr. Blunt had given
him the management. "Now, I want to ask a question. What becomes of
our master's cattle if we retire?"
"They remain," came the unhesitating answer. "The Indians will
probably attack us to-morrow, and if they are unsuccessful they will
drive the cattle away. We shall call the gauchos from other ranches
and shall follow, and no doubt we shall manage to capture many of the
stolen beasts. There is never much fighting, señor, for the Indians
move quickly, and give up all the cattle that lag. Our attention is
thus engaged more with the beasts than with the enemy."
"While in any case our master is a heavy loser."
"That is so, señor," admitted Pietro ruefully; "but who can help it?"
"We can," came the prompt answer. "We can try to, at any rate. More
than that, I fancy we might even read these fellows a lesson which
will last them for many a year to come. Send those messengers to me."
Pietro and his comrades stared at Dudley as if they could not believe
their ears. They had spent their lives on the pampas, and now and
again it had happened that they or friends of theirs had been
surrounded by the Indians, who were always hostile to the gauchos.
Then they had had to fight, and the gauchos had plenty of pluck and
determination, and knew how to make the most of a desperate
situation. But their experience had also taught them that the
Indians always raided in large numbers, which it would be foolish to
oppose. These raids were very often, and in fact in nearly every
case, sudden and unexpected, and retaliation was never very possible.
Sometimes they had managed to round up some of the Indians as they
drove the rancho cattle away, and then there had been slaughter. But
as a general rule gauchos were pounced upon and killed barbarously,
while those who escaped hung on the tail of the retreating Indians
and did their best to recover some of the cattle, which were always
the object of these raids. It was therefore somewhat startling to
hear such a proposition.
"As the señor cares to order," said Pietro readily. "But how? We
are willing to fight if he will show us how."
"Then listen to this. The beasts are six miles from this, at least
they were early this morning when I rode out."
"They are there now, señor. The gauchos surround them."
"Then we will retire at once till we are well beyond the herd. There
are three thousand of them, and the Indians will hardly dare to drive
more. We will gallop away now, and by the time we reach our comrades
it will be dusk."
"That is true, señor," came the cautious admission. "It will be
dusk, but not so dark that the Indians cannot follow and surround the
cattle. Three thousand is as many as they dare attempt to drive."
"Then tell me this, Pietro. Will they return towards their own
country to-night, supposing they do not attack the house?"
"Surely not, señor. It would be madness to attempt to control so
many beasts in the darkness, they would stampede. They will camp for
the night, and I myself believe that, now that Giono is killed, they
will not attempt an attack on the farm. They will surround the
cattle, just as we do, and those who are not on guard will build a
fire, kill a beast, and gorge themselves with the meat. I know them
well; they are gluttons to a man."
"Then they will play into our hands. Listen to this. Send a
messenger to each of our herds, and give them orders to call away all
the gauchos who can be spared. They are to meet us five miles beyond
the place for which we are now about to make. They are to ride
silently, and are not to smoke or to attract the attention of the
Indians. You follow me? Then let us ride."
The buzzing noise in his head was forgotten. He no longer felt the
crick in his neck which had troubled him so much a few minutes
before. He was all keenness to be moving, to perfect his scheme, and
to do something to save his employer. For Dudley had often
considered these Indian raids, and time and again had asked why it
was that resistance was not better organized, and why the gauchos and
their leaders did not combine rapidly, having some prearranged
signal, and fall upon the enemy before they had retired too far.
That was the only time when a blow could be struck, for to follow the
Indians into their own country was out of the question, unless a
large force were taken, and then there would be the added
difficulties of transport of ammunition and food, besides the chance
of failing to find water, always a danger in this pampas country,
where streams were not abundant. Here was an opportunity to strike a
blow, for, thanks to the late arrival of the Indians, it was already
getting dusk, and would be dark before they could reach the nearest
herd of cattle.
"You are sure that they will bivouac when they come up with the
beasts?" he asked anxiously.
"I am certain, señor. Indians do not love moving about at night in
any case, and it is more than likely that they have ridden far
to-day. Their raids are usually successful because they arrive when
least expected. They ride fast from their own country in the hope of
falling upon the settlements before news of their coming can be sent.
If they meet a stray gaucho they ride him down and shoot him lest he
should carry the alarm. That is why the señor was chased, and why
Giono was so intent on killing him. Their beasts have had a big
day's work, and they will rest them as soon as possible, knowing that
they have a bigger day before them on the morrow."
"Then we will mount and ride," said Dudley. "Pietro, take command of
twenty of the gauchos, and stay here till the main body of the enemy
appear, then retire before they can come within range. Let them
think that you are terrified, and when once you get going, gallop
back beyond the herd as fast as you can. By then it will be dark."
"Surely it will, señor; the sun is sinking fast, and twilight is
never long with us. We wait, and retire when the time comes. We
shall find you and our comrades beyond?"
"We shall be six miles or rather less on the far side of the herd.
Be careful, and good luck to you and your friends."
There was a calm businesslike air about the young gringo which
impressed the gauchos, the air of modest self-assurance which had
impressed them when this lad had joined them for the first time and
had won his match against Giono. Already they had become accustomed
to receiving orders from him, and, more than that, he had always been
so tactful in giving them, was so friendly with them one and all, and
so ready to accept advice from these honest and experienced men of
the pampas, that there was not one who did not swear by him.
"He is a youth, it is true, comrades," Pietro had said on one
occasion when the new manager was under discussion, "he was a gringo
only a little while ago, but, I ask, is there here a man who could
draw on him and hope to be alive within a minute?"
"There is not one," came the emphatic answer from a comrade. "And
yet, I declare that that is wrong after all; for our young master, it
is true, would have his muzzle at our heads before we could wink, but
would not fire. He knows that we like him."
There was a chorus of assent, and then and there all declared that
the arrangement made by Mr. Blunt was excellent, and met with their
approval. They thought a lot of the new manager. He was not
conceited, not full of foolish airs and graces, and by no means soft.
He didn't know everything, and was not ashamed to acknowledge his
inexperience. But when it came to giving orders, he was the one, and
already they understood that he would have no unnecessary
interference. Mr. Blunt was away just at this time, and so it was
natural that they should turn to Dudley.
Pietro selected his men at once, and each one stood beside his horse,
his gun over his shoulder, while the gaucho told them in his own
tongue and in the plainest language what was expected of them.
"This is not to be the usual raid, comrades," he said. "The Indians
are not to have it all their own way as formerly, for our young
master will attack them. We are to wait here till they come up in
force, and then we are to retire in haste as if we feared them. Not
a shot is to be fired. Watch me, and when I shout, turn your horses
and gallop back past the herd. It will be getting dark by then, and
as soon as we are out of sight we will draw in together and trot on
to the meeting place."
It was pretty to watch the way in which this party of gauchos swung
themselves into their native saddles. Pietro gave the word, and in
less than half a minute the men were in their seats, their toes home
in the stirrups, and their weapons in their hands. And there they
sat like statues, the fringes of their leggings blowing out on either
side, their broad-brimmed hats pulled down well, so that they should
not lose them, and a general air of expectancy on every face. For
this was so different from their action on former occasions. No man
likes to be hounded off his own land, and see the possessions of
which he has had charge filched from beneath his very nose. Such a
course of conduct is demoralizing. The thought that they were to
make a struggle, not for their own lives so much as for their
master's property, heartened these fine gauchos, and they cast many
an admiring glance at their young commander. Dudley limped across
the grass, for he was stiff and sore after such a tumble, and
clambered into the saddle. He was to ride a spare horse, while his
own fine beast was led, for it was still too exhausted for active
work, and could hardly have supported a man's weight. Then he waved
his arm, and at the signal the remainder of the gauchos fell in
beside him and walked their horses back towards the spot where the
herd was being guarded. Four miles beyond, a dozen galloping figures
were seen dimly in the distance, and a little later these gauchos,
besides some five or six more, had joined their force, increasing its
numbers till they were quite respectable.
"There is firing behind, señor," said Pepito, suddenly, for he was
riding beside Dudley. "Listen again! There and there! The Indians
are within range, perhaps, or they are driving our friends before
them. It is too dark to see far. If it were early morning we could
detect their figures."
Dudley reined in his horse and sat upright, listening.
"We will halt here for a while in case they are in difficulties,"
said he promptly; "then we can all ride on together."
A quarter of an hour passed before a group of horsemen was seen
approaching through the dusk. It was Pietro and his party, and there
was a broad grin of satisfaction on every face. The two parties fell
in together and trotted on over the swelling pampas till they had
passed the herd for which the Indians were making and had gone four
miles beyond.
"We had fun, señor," said Pietro, as he wiped the perspiration from
his face with his horny fingers and lifted his hat to cool his head.
"They came towards us in one big mass, with a few scouts out on their
flanks. There were between three and four hundred, perhaps, and by
the manner in which they rode it was clear that they imagined that
there was nothing to fear. They sent a hundred towards us, and long
before these men were in range they began to fire their weapons. We
waited till the bullets dropped pretty close, and then we bolted as
if we were scared for our lives. Is that as the señor wished?"
"You have done splendidly, Pietro, and must have increased their
assurance. They will perhaps be less careful to-night."
"They will set a good watch on the cattle, of that the señor may be
sure," was Pietro's answer; "but the main body will camp, and do as I
said before. Meat is not too plentiful with these savages, and when
they are encamped so close to a herd which belongs to someone else,
and when a dozen more or less of the beasts make no difference, they
will slaughter enough to satisfy the hunger of a thousand men and
will gorge themselves. They do not fear attack. Why should they,
when there are such numbers of them?"
"That is just the little point which is going to help us, Pietro,"
smiled Dudley. "It is the general who despises his adversaries and
who fails to set a careful watch who is caught napping on occasion.
It happens that a spiritless enemy take a sudden and unaccountable
change. Something gives them pluck, though that is never wanting
with the gauchos, or someone suggests another course of action which
seems worth trying; then your careless and cocksure general has a
fall--he and his men get a hiding."
Pietro laughed heartily, and a number of the men near at hand joined
in. For all could understand English, and speak a little, while
Pietro, Pepito, and a few others could converse fluently. They
gathered the meaning of their young leader instantly, and liked the
plain way in which he put this last matter.
"The señor is right, as he has been before," laughed Pietro. "If he
had not been here we should have had no warning, some of our number
would have been killed, and then we should have galloped for the
house, leaving the cattle to themselves. Now we see that there is
another course. The señor can rely on us, for we would do much to
break up these enemies, and check them thoroughly. Does the señor
know what happens should a gaucho be captured?"
"Something unpleasant, I imagine," smiled Dudley.
"I will not say. But it is bad. They are brutes, and treat
prisoners with frightful cruelty. But we are four miles from the
herd. What shall we do next?"
"Eat and smoke, if you can get into some little hollow," was the
prompt answer. "When are these fellows asleep?"
"By midnight they will be gorged and drowsy. By two in the morning
they will be almost helpless. Their sense of hearing will be dulled,
and for the most part they will be fast asleep."
"And the dawn breaks at about four-thirty. Good!" exclaimed Dudley.
"Well, what about the meal?"
"The señor thinks of the comfort of his men always. There is a dip
in the pampas beyond the next rise; there we can light fires and eat
and rest."
The wide sweeping pampas ran on in a long succession of rolls, which
were hardly distinguishable to those riding over them. But they were
there for all that, and often enough a party of horsemen situated in
one depression would be out of sight of a second in a depression
running parallel. Dudley and his men took advantage of this fact,
and very soon had hobbled their horses, had slipped the bits behind
the chins, so that the animals might graze, and had gathered bundles
of thistles. These were set fire to beneath an awning of blankets,
for otherwise the glare might have been seen in the sky. Cuts of
juicy meat were skewered on sticks or on ramrods, and very soon there
was a fizzle about the flames, and an odor which made a hungry man
sniff and grow fidgety. Pipes were taken from saddle bags, filled
with rank weed which would try the stomach even of an army recruit,
and carefully lit at the embers.
It was a peaceful and very contented body of men who sat about that
shrouded fire and discussed their evening meal, a party of good
fellows who were strangely elated, and who cast glances of the utmost
confidence at their white leader. The hours flew by, and as midnight
came, many of the gauchos had already fallen asleep.
"We will let them rest till all is ready," said Dudley in a whisper.
"Now, Pietro, I am going over there to the cattle to see what the
Indians are doing. If things are fairly quiet we will make a
movement. Send Pepito with me, and bring along the main party in
half an hour's time, taking care to halt them a good mile from the
enemy."
The gaucho's mouth opened wide with astonishment. He stared at the
set face before him, half-lit by the flare from the fire, and then
altered his mind. He was about to argue, to remonstrate, and as
quickly decided that words were not wanted.
"The señor is pleased to order," he said. "We shall obey. In an
hour from now we shall be a mile from the enemy."
"Good. Then I shall meet you there and give further instructions.
Recollect, silence must be kept. No pipes are to be smoked, and,
above all, men must be careful of their weapons. Good-by!"
Pepito was beside them now, and at a word from Dudley he strode by
his side out of the camp and away in the direction of the Indians.